


Lone Cub

by Kalira



Series: A Snake-Shaped Space [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Accidental Acquisition By Child, Accidental Child Acquisition, Angst with a Happy Ending, Caretaking, Confusion, Delirium, Family, Fever, Fluff, Frightened Child, Gen, Kid Hatake Kakashi, Light Angst, M/M, Missions Gone Wrong, Mistaken Identity, Naruto Rare Pair Bingo 2019, Sickfic, Small Animal Catching and Consumption, Temper Tantrums, parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-10-03 17:30:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20456756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalira/pseuds/Kalira
Summary: Orochimaru finds young Hatake hunting alone deep in the woods of Hi no Kuni, and learns upon questioning him that his father is gravely ill or worse. Kakashi, convinced Orochimaru is his mother, is relieved to lead him right to their camp to offer assistance.





	Lone Cub

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Naruto Rare Pair Bingo 2019](http://naruto-rarepair-bingo.tumblr.com/), for the spaces 'accidental child acquisition' on Board B & 'sickfic' on Board C.

Orochimaru lowered his canteen as something flickered almost at the edge of his senses. Eyes narrowing, he let his tongue flick out and focused more closely on the sensation. It was far off, and felt like . . . it felt like a Konoha nin, a half-familiar signature rather than one he knew well, but even so something was off about it. He frowned.

He took another drink, then put the canteen away and started moving again . . . this time towards that odd little flicker.

It was the White Fang, Orochimaru realised as he grew closer; a signature glowing with distinctive white chakra crackling with raiton. But. . .

But there was something _wrong_ about it, even aside from the fact that it was far too small and weak. Orochimaru shook his head, searching out a more precise direction and tracking steadily towards the sparking source of chakra. It was moving, but not far and not fast.

More curious still, this far out from both Konoha and anything of much interest.

Orochimaru paused in mid-step as he moved around a tree and the source of the chakra came into view. It was _not_ Hatake Sakumo . . . this little one must be his child. Orochimaru vaguely recalled that he and the Inuzuka he had settled with had produced a child several years back.

The child had wild silvery hair like his father . . . and blood smeared all over his face. Orochimaru would have been more immediately concerned for him, but he also had most of a bloody rabbit in his lap, and as Orochimaru watched he ripped loose a strip of muscle, free of fur, and snapped it up with a soft sound and a flash of small, solid fangs.

Orochimaru looked, and flicked his tongue out as he focused his senses, but . . . there was no other human chakra. Nowhere nearby; the child was alone. He stepped out and moved towards the child, and had only taken a few steps before the little head shot up and sharp, stormy grey eyes fixed on him.

Orochimaru didn’t pause, but he did smile reassuringly. “Hello, little one. . .” he said gently, and the child tilted his head, swallowing his chunk of meat and giving a curious sort of whine, looking very puppyish. “Are you all right?” Orochimaru asked as he reached the child, crouching and absently picking a bit of bloody fur off his jaw.

“. . .yes.” The child shifted, fingers digging into the bloody animal. “I-” he faltered.

“Where’s your father?” Orochimaru asked, because there was _still_ no sign of the White Fang and while seeing this little one out here alone was boggling enough, his father _had_ to be _somewhere_ nearby. Out of Orochimaru’s range to sense him, perhaps, but the child could not possibly have gotten here without him. “Why are you out hunting alone?”

Orochimaru’s eyes widened just a little when the child sniffled, then keened. “Little one?” he asked, reaching for the child reassuringly.

“Dad- Dad-” he half-howled, quiet but reedy. “Dad doesn’t get up any more. . .”

Orochimaru tensed. That . . . could horribly explain why Hatake was nowhere in Orochimaru’s sensing range despite the presence of his child. “What happened?” he asked, though well aware that at this age - he was so small - the child’s recollections or indeed any report he could offer from them would likely not be very coherent.

“Don’t know. . .” the child said sadly. “Dad- Dad said we had to stop, and Dad found a place, but we never kept going. . . Dad doesn’t get up any more now. . . Dad’s wolf was with us but she left too. . .”

Wolf?

. . .the Hatake wolves. A summon. If not to send for help then likely to protect them, if Hatake had been forced to stop and hole up due to some injury.

“Was there a battle?” Orochimaru asked, absently wiping blood off the little one’s face and bringing him closer as he shuddered.

“Dad’s mission.” the child said, shaking his head as Orochimaru wiped down the length of his sharply-angled little nose. Orochimaru paused and he sniffed, then put his nose to Orochimaru’s palm with a curious sound, snuffling. “Battle was battle.”

Orochimaru guessed that whatever injury may have taken Hatake down had either not been sustained in the battle or he had succeeded in hiding it from his son. Whyever he had brought his son on a _mission_.

“Did your Dad get hurt?” Orochimaru asked carefully, brushing his fingers through fluffy silver fringe.

“No. . .” the child said, pouting. He sniffed again, bowing his head.

Orochimaru looked at the rabbit. “Are you still hungry?” he asked, brushing his fingertips over the child’s neck before resting them at the nape of his neck. His pulse was steady and strong, not thready with weakness; not much of a surprise, if he’d been able to hunt for himself with, it seemed, admirable success. He shook his head. “Will your Dad be hungry?”

“Maybe. . .” the child looked up at him. “Dad. . . I try, but he doesn’t eat much any more either.” He made himself smaller still against Orochimaru, a shudder running through him, and Orochimaru hummed soothingly.

“Can you take me to Dad, little one?” Orochimaru asked gently.

The child sniffed, then nodded. He ripped loose a half-picked-over haunch of the rabbit, then pushed the rest into Orochimaru’s hand before clambering over his outstretched arm and around his shoulder to his back. Orochimaru tensed, startled, and only more so when he felt the flutter of the small, sparking chakra at his back.

. . .the child was using chakra to cling to Orochimaru’s shoulders and back as he rose.

“Are. . . Are you all right there?” Orochimaru asked, angling a look over his own shoulder. The child had a mouthful of rabbit again, but he pointed ahead, wriggling a little. He _felt_ secure.

Orochimaru moved slowly all the same, but the child didn’t shift, his chakra steady.

Orochimaru followed the child’s directions, keeping his senses attuned for any trace of another ninja, or signs of someone else passing through - though he couldn’t imagine Hatake might have left them normally, if he were injured or ill. . . And the child very well may have, however clever a small hunter he was.

“Den’s further, and across the water.” the child said after a few minutes, tucking his head down against the back of Orochimaru’s neck on one side and probably getting blood in his hair.

Across the water.

Orochimaru was uncertain what the child might mean until, with another slow few minutes of travel, they came upon a narrow river. Narrow, but still too broad and too quick to cross easily without using chakra. He brushed his fingers over the child’s shin, assessing it and wondering if he truly could have come this way alone.

“You can stay there if I move faster?” Orochimaru checked, eyeing the river and wondering _how_ the child had crossed it. But he seemed sure of himself, and Orochimaru still couldn’t sense Hatake. Hopefully he truly _was_ out of range, and not. . . 

“Of course, Kaasan.” the child said with a sigh, and Orochimaru froze. “All the time.”

_Kaasan?_

Orochimaru moved towards the river. “Did Dad tell you Kaasan was coming to find you?” he asked cautiously. Hatake’s Inuzuka partner had died on a mission some time ago, Orochimaru remembered coming across the aftermath of the battle. If Hatake had forgotten. . .__  
  
“Dad didn’t say anything. Not- Not for. . .” the child said, sniffling and giving a soft, distressed whine. “You-” He whined again. “You can help Dad, can’t you Kaasan?”

Orochimaru swallowed. “Take me to him, little one.” he said gently, because he hoped so, but from what he knew now . . . Hatake could well be dead already.

It could be that all Orochimaru could do for the White Fang was keep his child safe and return him - them both - to Konoha. And he wouldn’t make a promise to the child he wasn’t sure he could keep.

Orochimaru was across the river in seconds, and he kept moving quicker once on the other side, assured the child was steady in his clinging place behind Orochimaru’s shoulders. He carefully questioned what had happened with Hatake as they moved, though he didn’t let the child’s information entirely rule anything out, either - he was so very young, Orochimaru knew his memory might not be quite right even if he hadn’t missed anything. Whether or not his father had hidden it from him.

Orochimaru was a little surprised how very _far_ the child directed him to go, but-

“Safer to hunt far from the den.” the child said reasonably. “Dad- Dad didn’t say it was okay, but. . .”

Orochimaru reached up and rested a hand on the child’s lower leg comfortingly, just as he felt a flicker that _might_ be Hatake’s chakra at the edge of his range.

* * *

“Dad?” Kakashi nuzzled at Dad’s shoulder, up to his neck, which was sweaty and uncomfortably hot. His nose wrinkled. Dad smelled wrong and icky, the scent made Kakashi’s insides curl unhappily. “Dad?”

Dad groaned a little, but didn’t move. Kakashi’s tummy complained. He snuffled and cuddled closer against Dad’s side, and cautiously licked his jaw. Dad didn’t respond. “I . . . I’m going hunting, Dad.” he said, but it took him a long time to pull away.

. . .even if Dad wasn’t cuddling him or holding on to him the way Dad normally would.

Kakashi tried to get Dad to wake up enough to have some water before leaving, but he wouldn’t. Kakashi left the water close by, but he knew Dad wouldn’t get it on his own. He’d bring back something to eat and try again. Even if Dad hadn’t eaten in days.

“I’ll be safe, Dad.” Kakashi promised, nuzzling his cheek, because he knew Dad would ask if he was awake, then slipped out of the cave they had built their camp-den inside and crept carefully away, focusing on his surroundings and on not leaving any sign for now. He’d hunt further away.

Kakashi had taken a long time ranging, plotting out the area, when he had first ventured out a few days ago. He had found some other things, plant things, he half-remembered from Dad’s lessons but wasn’t . . . quite sure of. And Dad said never to eat anything if he wasn’t sure of it.

Anything he could catch and kill, though, that was sure.

Once he was a good way away, across the river and further, Kakashi set seriously to work seeking out something he could catch. He moved quietly as he investigated scent trails, stalking and tucking himself into hiding. It took him three tries before he had his prey, but it died cleanly under his fangs as he pounced, and he tore into the fat rabbit eagerly, tummy settling with the first few bites, blood smearing on his face and the rich scent of it tingling in his nose.

There were no new sounds, quite, and the forest didn’t go _silent_, but something in the air changed around him, and Kakashi tensed, even as he stuck another bite in his mouth. He looked for any sign of the reason behind the shift just as someone took a step closer, eyes widening.

He stayed put, examining them. The man moved slowly, but not stalking, and there was a hitai-ate wound beneath his long black hair emblazoned with Konoha’s leaf. Kakashi watched him warily but didn’t move.

“Hello, little one.” the man smiled at him.

Kakashi swallowed his rabbit and tilted his head, whining softly as the man approached and knelt beside him. Dad called him cub, but there was . . . a faint memory of a soft voice calling _my little one_-

“Are you all right?” the man asked, cleaning an itchy spot on Kakashi’s face.

Kakashi wriggled and tensed, thinking about Dad, hidden safely in the camp-den. “Yes. I-” _He_ was all right, but Dad. . . Kakashi caught his breath a little shakily.

“Where’s your father? Why are you out hunting alone?” the man asked, soft but faintly . . . disapproving? The soft sound of his voice tugged again at something Kakashi didn’t quite remember. And. And. . . Kakashi keened. Dad was- Dad- “Little one?” the man asked, reaching for Kakashi and bringing him in closer.

“Dad-” Kakashi choked a few times as he yowled, trying to explain. “Dad doesn’t get up any more!”

The arms around him tensed, but the voice was still soft as his memories. Kakashi tried to explain, how Dad had been running - they’d been fine, Kakashi clinging to him - and then . . . Dad had gotten slow, and he had sounded wrong when he said they needed to stop, even though it was the middle of the afternoon. Dad had found them a safe place to hole up himself, and summoned Yura, and unsealed things to make a camp-den, but . . . Dad didn’t do much and they’d never got back to running. Back home.

“Was there a battle?”

Kakashi sniffed and shivered, shaking his head as his face was cleaned of blood. That didn’t matter, there were usually battles; battles didn’t mean anything.

“Did your Dad get hurt?”

Kakashi looked up, wide-eyed, as gentle fingers petted through his hair, warm and familiar, and met warm yellow-gold eyes almost shadowed by the dark hair around-

Oh. Kakashi’s memory twisted. Oh. He remembered. Soft hands and yellow eyes and hair like shadows and darker stripes on a half-hidden face and a gentle-warm voice and _my dear little one, so much your father’s cub_ and-

“Are you still hungry?” Kaasan asked and how could Kakashi have forgotten Kaasan? Even if it had been such a long time since Kaasan. . . Kakashi shook his head in answer. He’d eaten plenty of rabbit, and a few bird’s eggs earlier. His tummy was mostly full. “Will your Dad be hungry?” Kaasan asked, petting the nape of his neck in a way that made Kakashi want to curl up in Kaasan’s lap and rest, warm and safe.

Dad, though. Would Dad be hungry?

Kakashi sniffed sadly. “Maybe. Dad- I try,” he assured Kaasan firmly, “but he doesn’t eat much any more either.” He curled up tight, leaning into Kaasan.

A soft hum made him relax a little, even before the gentle stroke down his back.

“Can you take me to Dad, little one?” Kaasan asked, and Kakashi sniffled, but nodded. Of course he could. Kaasan would have to see Dad to- Maybe Kaasan could help Dad. Kakashi didn’t know what else to do but Kaasan. . . Kaasan had to know.

Kakashi tore off the bit of the rabbit he had still been eating and handed the rest to Kaasan before hopping up to his usual spot, flaring his chakra to hold on securely. Kaasan was still for a long moment as Kakashi ripped loose a bite of meat, then asked if Kakashi was all right to hold on. Kakashi snorted, ignoring that and pointing the way back to Dad.

Kakashi nestled against Kaasan’s neck, scenting from time to time. Kaasan smelled sharp and calm, and a little like blood and metal. Kakashi rubbed his face against the back of Kaasan’s neck.

Kaasan tilted his head, one bright eye coming into view as he looked over his shoulder at Kakashi. “Did Dad tell you Kaasan was coming to find you?” he asked softly, and Kakashi frowned, then sniffled and ducked his head.

“Dad didn’t say _anything_. Not for. . .” Kakashi whined, fingers tightening in Kaasan’s shirt. “You-” He struggled for a moment. “You can help Dad, can’t you, Kaasan?” he asked, tugging at Kaasan’s shirt, which pulled against his armour over it.

“Take me to him, little one.” Kaasan said, and then began asking about Dad and their trip and Dad’s mission and _everything_. Kakashi frowned and tried very hard to remember, because _Kaasan_ was asking, and because Kaasan was going to help Dad, and Dad said that lots of facts and right facts was very important when there were scary things or things that went wrong.

Dad had been slow and not quite as steady as he should have been, and then Dad had said they needed to stop, though he’d smiled and nuzzled Kakashi and treated it like a normal stop . . . it had been the middle of the afternoon. Dad had worked a bit to set up a camp-den, and then he had sprawled on the rocky floor, panting and looking worn out.

Kakashi had needed to get the nest made enough to rest in, even. Dad hadn’t _told_ him, but Kakashi hadn’t needed to be told there was something wrong . . . even before Dad grew weaker, losing his grip on things or wavering when he tried to get up, his voice funny. He was hot sometimes and cold other times and he was confused even when he shouldn’t be.

Kaasan listened and kept asking questions, and Kakashi told him about Dad getting hot and sweaty, and shivering, and whimpering in his sleep but not sounding right. About Dad eating when Kakashi offered him ration bars, or freshly caught meat - Kakashi was a _good_ hunter, he could take care of himself and Dad too - but . . . not much. And he had stopped taking it . . . and he hadn’t taken any water when Kakashi tried since yesterday, either, even though Kakashi _knew_ it was important.

Kaasan patted his ankle, and Kakashi sniffled, leaning into his neck and closing his eyes as he felt Kaasan’s heart beating in his throat. Kakashi pressed his face into the comforting throb and stayed there until he had to guide Kaasan again, but. . .

Kaasan took them right to the camp-den after that, even though it was hidden a little, tucked away in a sheltered cave. Kakashi sniffed and rubbed his cheek against Kaasan’s neck. Of course Kaasan could find Dad’s camp-den.

“Here, little one, yes?” Kaasan asked, and Kakashi nodded, pointing out the opening that would lead inside the most easily.

Kaasan bent and carried him inside, but once he had straightened again, Kakashi relaxed his grip and released the spark of chakra helping him cling to Kaasan, leaping down to the rocky cave floor. He crept nearer to Dad again. He hadn’t moved since Kakashi had left.

“Dad?” Kakashi nuzzled him carefully, swallowing a whine when he barely responded to the touch or the words. Dad was never like this . . . but he had been not right for a while. “Dad . . . found Kaasan. . .”

Dad didn’t really respond, nothing more than a dull sound that could have just been his rough, unsteady breathing.

Kakashi shivered and twisted to look up at Kaasan as he approached. “K- Kaasan, Dad. . .” he whimpered anxiously, and Kaasan brushed a hand over his hair. “You can make Dad better, Kaasan? Right?”

Kaasan knelt and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Let me look at him, little one, mm?”

Kakashi whimpered again and tucked himself tight against Kaasan’s side, clinging to his shirt and watching Dad as Kaasan’s hands began to sweep over him.

* * *

Orochimaru frowned as he made out Hatake sprawled in a makeshift pallet on the cave floor. He was, at least, alive . . . but he hadn’t so much as twitched when Orochimaru entered the cave, nor when his child crawled up to his side and spoke to him, pressed up against him with hopeful nuzzles.

The child whimpered and looked up at Orochimaru again, hands resting on Hatake’s side. “K- Kaasan . . . Dad-” he faltered, and Orochimaru petted his hair, moving to kneel beside him as he asked Orochimaru for reassurance again.

“Let me look at him, little one.” Orochimaru said gently, humming an encouraging note and clasping the child’s shoulder. He squirmed, but didn’t speak again, making another soft sound of distress and pressing close against Orochimaru, fingers curling into his shirt.

He was rather in the way, but Orochimaru didn’t try to move him. The little one was trembling a little and had no doubt been frightened for days - the state of the makeshift camp here definitely bore out the impression it had been days since Hatake had begun to show signs of . . . whatever it was that had befallen him.

Orochimaru had built some theories on the way here, but actually examining Hatake, by touch and sight as well as with chakra, marked out several of them. Including, blessedly, three poisons he had neither antidote nor the ability, out here, to create one for.

It was almost as much a relief to find that there were no wounds that the child had either not noticed, or Hatake had managed to hide from him. Nothing large enough to cause the types of problems the child had described, in any case. Hatake was feverish, and his breathing shallow and quickened. His lungs sounded clear but he wasn’t taking full breaths, his chest barely moving with each one.

Orochimaru could find no signs of poisoning, but if it was something that had been absorbed into the system and caused a lasting problem after it was metabolised. . . If Hatake had been _bitten_ by something, or sustained a small injury that had introduced an infection somewhere inside, eating at his internal organs. . .

Orochimaru frowned, forming a few hand seals and focusing his chakra in the most thorough diagnostic iryou jutsu he knew. Hatake’s system was unbalanced, his muscular responses were dulled, and he was feverish and dehydrated, but none of that told Orochimaru much of anyting _new_. He _wasn’t_ showing any traces of poison, and there were no major injuries.

Orochimaru glanced down at the child still snug against his ribs, and rubbed his back comfortingly. He shuddered and looked up. “Kaasan?”

“I think your father would like to be clean, don’t you?” Orochimaru asked, because it was likely true - his nose wrinkled - and because he needed to check by eye and possibly by touch for any signs the iryou jutsu might not give him anyway. “Is there water for that?”

The boy looked at him for a moment, then pointed off to the other side of Hatake before scampering away to drag a bucket closer. “Not good for drinking, but Dad says always good to keep water, so I have.” he said, looking at Orochimaru with wide eyes.

“Well done.” Orochimaru told him honestly, and he relaxed a little, almost smiling.

He crawled up close to Hatake again. “Dad?” He paused, looking at Orochimaru. “Dad didn’t drink anything today.” he said miserably. “I _tried_, but. . .”

“Let’s see if he’ll drink some water first, then.” Orochimaru agreed, hiding a frown. “Did he tell you no, or was he still asleep?”

“Sleep.” the child said, sniffing. “Dad? Dad? Kaasan says you- Dad!”

Hatake stirred again, whining, the tone of it louder and more nasal than his son’s high, quiet voice. Orochimaru moved closer but didn’t lean over him directly.

“Kakashi?” Hatake said, and Orochimaru frowned, brows drawing together. Why would he say-

“Daddy!”

“. . .hey. Kashi, cub.” Hatake said weakly, turning his head a little. “You’re . . . okay?”

“I’m okay Dad.” the child, _Kakashi_, that made more sense, said. “Kaasan is here! I found Kaasan.” His voice wavered. “Kaasan is going to help, Dad.”

Orochimaru’s throat tightened, but he swallowed thickly and forced the feeling away.

“. . .Kaasan?” Hatake repeated, voice thick. Orochimaru leaned in, opening his mouth to identify himself, but- “Good.” Hatake closed his eyes. “Listen to Kaasan.” he slurred.

“Hatake!” Orochimaru said sharply. “Don’t go back to sleep. We’re going to get some water in you.” Hatake stirred slightly but didn’t respond. “Hatake!”

Kakashi whined, looking up at Orochimaru, but he tugged the blanket away as Orochimaru pulled Hatake up to rest against his shoulder, and offered up a canteen as soon as Orochimaru began to reach for it. Unfortunately, though Hatake was still mostly awake, he was evidently having trouble swallowing. He might have gotten a few sips of water down, but most of it spilled down his face and neck. Orochimaru absently dried his face and slid him gently down to rest on his back again. At least he wasn’t aspirating, even if he also wasn’t getting much down his throat properly.

“Hatake?” Orochimaru questioned, touching Hatake’s face, but he didn’t so much as twitch. “Does he sleep most of the time now, Kakashi?” he asked, looking at the child.

“Sometimes. . .” Kakashi said, and Orochimaru frowned. Not particularly helpful, but he was a very small child. Orochimaru hadn’t expected a defined answer. He brushed a hand over Kakashi’s head and set up another lantern nearby from his own supplies before enlisting Kakashi’s help to strip Hatake down - mostly to give the child a focus other than watching anxiously.

Hatake stirred a bit as Orochimaru moved to start checking him over from the top of his head downwards, unbinding his hair and running careful fingers through it to inspect his scalp. There were no bumps or signs of head trauma, and his neck was relaxed and unbruised. His pulse was steady and strong, at least.

Orochimaru paused, frowning, and bent closer, ruffling Hatake’s wild hair to try and get through to the lump he had felt. It _moved_ beneath his fingers as they ran over it.

“Kaasan?”

“Mm?” Orochimaru didn’t look up, moving his fingers back as he caught a glimpse of something dark that was quickly gone again, damn it.

“Water?” Kakashi asked, and Orochimaru shook his head.

“Not . . . yet. I think there’s something in his hair.” Orochimaru said absently, just as- Orochimaru huffed and held Hatake’s hair out of the way, inspecting the tick. If it had leeched toxins into his system . . . tick paralysis . . . had been on his list of theories, but he hadn’t thought it likely.

Orochimaru carefully removed the tick, inspected it to be sure its head had come out intact, and then dropped it into the lantern’s flame.

“Kaasan?” Kakashi questioned, nose wrinkling as he inspected the lantern.

“Ticks are not good for you.” Orochimaru said simply, eyeing the child. He was clearly not showing the same symptoms Hatake was - certainly he wasn’t even having the beginnings of coordination troubles, if he’d managed to run all the way Orochimaru had covered with him, and catch a rabbit, to all appearances with his bare hands - but . . . he should be checked as well.

Orochimaru would tackle that once he had finished with Hatake. It was still possible it was something other than tick paralysis, the evidence of the tick itself aside. Hatake stirred from time to time as Orochimaru worked his way down, inspecting every bit of Hatake as he went, then washing him as well, but his sparking chakra was calm - whether because he was too ill to be concerned about Orochimaru’s presence and touch, or even to sense it, or simply that having his child nearby was enough assurance he was secure.

“Kari?”

Orochimaru looked up, fingers splayed over Hatake’s side, surprised that Hatake had woken enough to speak unprompted, and a bit confused.

“Kari. . . Our cub’s safe? Kakashi?” Hatake shifted, face twisting with distress. “Where-”

“Kakashi is fine.” Orochimaru assured him quickly, lifting a hand and beckoning to Kakashi, who scrambled closer, leaning up over his father into Hatake’s field of view. “We’re just worried about you. Relax. Can you talk to me?” he asked.

“Dad!” Kakashi said, then pressed his little face to Hatake’s cheek. Hatake tilted his head ever so slightly into the touch. “I’m safe. Promise.”

“Good. Kari?” Hatake said again, hazy eyes moving back and forth, eyelids drooping. Orochimaru leaned in further. “Kari. . .” He sighed, closing his eyes.

“Hatake!” Orochimaru called sharply, and Hatake whined thickly but opened them again. “Do you know where you are?” he asked. Hatake recognised his son, clearly, but had misidentified Orochimaru as . . . Kakashi’s mother? Orochimaru shook his head slightly.

“Camp.” Hatake said weakly, then- “. . .mission? Was . . . heading home. With Kakashi.”

“Why did you _take_ Kakashi on your mission?” Orochimaru asked, though it hadn’t been at all what he’d intended to try and get out of Hatake while he was speaking, if he could.

Hatake whined, fingers twitching. Orochimaru put a hand on his chest, hoping the gentle touch would calm him even though there was no need to _restrain_ him. “Cubs. . . I worried. . . Not _safe_. . . Cubs going missing in Konoha. . .”

Orochimaru froze.

“_Can’t_-” Hatake’s already thick, unsteady voice broke. “Even from the clans. Can’t lose-”

Kakashi, wide-eyed and whining, pressed close to Hatake’s shoulder, nuzzling his face.

“Kakashi is safe.” Orochimaru said as soon as he could speak steadily. “It’s all right.”

Kakashi looked up at him, whimpering, and Orochimaru moved closer, leaning across Hatake to brush a hand over Kakashi’s head and shoulder.

“You’ll- He’ll be safe. With you.” Hatake said desperately, and Orochimaru swallowed thickly.

“The cub’s safe. I promise.” Orochimaru said firmly. Hatake panted, closing his eyes, and Kakashi whimpered again.

“Kaasan?” Kakashi asked softly, wavering and drawn out with distress.

“It’s all right, little one.” Orochimaru said gently, smiling at him. “Why don’t you stay there and help keep your father relaxed while I finish . . . and make sure there aren’t any more nasty bugs hiding on him.” he suggested. “He’s worried for you too.”

“I’m okay Dad.” Kakashi said, already looking steadier. He tucked himself up more comfortably by Sakumo’s shoulder. “Kaasan’s here and everything. I was okay but now it’s even better. You just wait for Kaasan to make you better too.”

His unwavering faith had nothing to do with Orochimaru and everything to do with a child’s confidence in their parents regardless of what adult rationality might say, but Orochimaru was beyond relieved to already be mostly sure he knew what was wrong with Sakumo and . . . not to have to disappoint that trust.

Orochimaru refocused on his task, and found no other injuries anywhere on Hatake as he worked his way all the way down to slender feet and long toes. In fact Hatake looked remarkably healthy for a man who was flat on his back and unable to even breathe properly, and who had been in similar or weakening condition for some days now.

He hadn’t necessarily _expected_ to find any more ticks, but. . . Orochimaru hummed, pushing the bucket of water aside, and looked up Hatake’s body. He moved back up, carefully inspecting between toes, behind knees, and then carefully nudging Hatake’s thighs further apart and-

Orochimaru huffed through his nose. There was a small dark splotch high in Hatake’s groin, he had missed it somehow in his initial inspection. He eyed Hatake as he shifted his right thigh further outwards, but he didn’t react, and Orochimaru removed it - intact - without trouble. Once it had sizzled into nothing in the lantern’s flame, Orochimaru moved to Hatake’s side.

“Little one, come over by me, please.” Orochimaru asked before he carefully rolled Hatake over to inspect - and wash - his back. He watched carefully as he settled Hatake mostly on his chest, but he seemed to be breathing with no more difficulty than he had been before. Orochimaru set Kakashi near Hatake’s shoulder to watch his father, asking to be alerted if he woke up or his breathing changed, then moved Hatake’s hair out of the way and began working his way down once more.

There were no more hidden injuries - and no more ticks. Orochimaru quickly put together a clean pallet and rolled Hatake back over onto that instead, removing the makeshift one he had been lying in, then drew a clean blanket over him up to his ribs. There was no reason to go to the effort of redressing him at this point, really, and he seemed unlikely to care for his state of dress.

Orochimaru sat back and stretched, then looked at Kakashi. “Little one,” Orochimaru began, smoothing a bit of the blanket where it piled up by Hatake’s hip, “would you let me check you for ticks, too?” he asked gently. “I-”

Before he could try to explain his concern in a way that wouldn’t cause the child any alarm, Kakashi crawled into his lap and snuggled against his chest. “Dad pulled one off.” he said as he wriggled out of his shirt, and Orochimaru stilled. “It felt weird.”

“When did Dad pull a tick off you?” Orochimaru asked, helping Kakashi when his shirt caught on his ears.

“Before-” Kakashi looked over at Hatake and sniffled, tucking himself against Orochimaru again. Orochimaru curled an arm around him comfortingly and stroked his hair with the other hand. Before they’d stopped, at some point, then, Orochimaru gathered, rocking Kakashi as he shuddered with distress.

Orochimaru smoothed a hand over Kakashi’s back - he felt to be a little in need of a wash himself, really; not much more surprising than Hatake’s own condition had been - and waited as he calmed again. He began to inspect Kakashi’s head through his thick, fluffy hair, the ruffling strokes making him giggle.

Orochimaru smiled and tickled behind one of his ears, surprising the child into a squirming flop sideways.

“You could use a wash, too.” Orochimaru observed as he checked behind the other ear as well.

“Yes, Kaasan.” Kakashi said agreeably, and he raised an eyebrow.

“Perhaps a proper bath at the river tomorrow. I don’t want to leave your father again right now.” Orochimaru said, and Kakashi nodded. Orochimaru hummed, then shifted enough to drag the bucket of water closer again. “For now, though. . .”

“Yes, Kaasan!” Kakashi said, wriggling in his lap with a little crooning sound.

Orochimaru wet a clean cloth and resigned himself to getting wet as he stroked it over Kakashi’s face. He wrinkled his nose and squinched his eyes closed, squirming, but didn’t protest. Orochimaru petted his hair and washed behind his ears before working down his neck, checking in little controlled sweeps for ticks even as he scrubbed Kakashi cursorily clean.

Kakashi sighed contentedly, easily letting Orochimaru move him and holding mostly still for the inspection and for the cloth.

“You’ll need out of these, too.” Orochimaru pointed out, tugging at Kakashi’s pants and then tapping one of his tiny sandals.

Kakashi tugged at the sandals a little roughly, but got them off himself, toes wriggling as he hopped up and shed his pants, making a face. Orochimaru ran his fingers teasingly up Kakashi’s spine to tickle at the crook of his neck, making him laugh and wobble for a moment before catching his balance, grinning down at Orochimaru.

“Come here, little one.” Orochimaru invited, and Kakashi yawned before flopping back into Orochimaru’s arms and his lap. Kakashi shifted and hummed, toes wriggling again, and Orochimaru clasped one of his ankles and poked them. “Just look,” Orochimaru teased, tsking, “at the state of these toes.”

Kakashi giggled. “They’re my toes!”

“They’re terribly dirty toes.” Orochimaru told him, which wasn’t quite true - they could be worse, as could the rest of him, and Orochimaru was pleased to guess that he had, at least, washed himself up a little from time to time - but made him giggle again. “What kind of little cub goes about with dirty toes?”

“Hunting cub!” Kakashi said proudly, and Orochimaru ruffled his hair.

“That you are, little one.” Orochimaru agreed. “You’ve done _such_ a good job, taking care of yourself and of your father.”

Kakashi stilled, then nuzzled up against Orochimaru’s wrist, clinging to his forearm with both hands. Orochimaru hugged him and let him stay there for a few minutes before gently nudging him away enough to finish the makeshift bath.

When Orochimaru got to his feet and his toes, Kakashi dropped backwards across his lap with a spill of giggles, squirming and kicking just a little. Orochimaru shook his head and tickled the delicate sole of one foot before checking between each of his little toes, thankful not to find any ticks there, on either foot.

“Do you have clean clothes?” Orochimaru asked Kakashi, shaking his shoulder gently to get his attention, as he was beginning to droop rather badly. No wonder, despite how early in the day it was; he had been handling far more than a child his age really should, before Orochimaru found him, and now his fright had eased with Orochimaru’s presence.

Kakashi did not, as it happened, and Orochimaru dumped his dirty ones in the same heap with Hatake’s and the bedding to be washed at the river. One of his own shirts fit Kakashi not unlike a proper yukata, with a little folding and the sash wound snugly around him, and Kakashi sniffed at the sleeve and then snuggled into it with a soft hum.

“Comfortable?” Orochimaru asked, beginning to sort through the contents of Hatake’s supplies. He put another clean blanket by Hatake’s side for Kakashi to rest on.

“Yes, Kaasan.” Kakashi yawned hugely, showing off small, solid fangs. “Smells like you. ‘s good.” 

“Why don’t you take a nap?” Orochimaru suggested, running a hand through Kakashi’s hair and nudging him towards his father.

Kakashi sighed and went, and Orochimaru kept an eye on them both as he went about starting a fire and turning the rest of Kakashi’s rabbit and a few things from his own supplies into a rich broth. If Hatake could get _anything_ down, Orochimaru would like to get something with more nutrients in it into him.

* * *

Sakumo was vaguely aware of his cub pressing close against him again, and it eased his heart. “Dad?” Kakashi called, and Sakumo tried to answer him, but couldn’t even quite open his eyes. The world was too hot and heavy, and he couldn’t smell anything but the faint, slightly sour scent of his cub in need of a bath, a bit of squirrel and blood, and the scent of his own sour sweat.

Kakashi’s stomach grumbled, and Kakashi whined, then sniffed, a little upset sound, as he nudged up close, pressing himself to Sakumo’s arm and ribs. A small tongue brushed his jaw in a hopeful, needy gesture, but Sakumo couldn’t move enough to answer Kakashi no matter how hard he struggled to force past the aching, shuddery feeling.

“I’m going hunting, Dad.” Kakashi told him, and Sakumo worried over him out on his own, though Kakashi was a remarkably capable little cub.

Kakashi was still at his side when Sakumo lost his thin hold on consciousness, he didn’t know how much later. He hoped Kakashi was safe when he went out, and fretted guiltily at leaving Kakashi to hunt alone, to _wander_ alone, wishing he could drag himself up no matter how miserably, no matter what it cost him, to keep Kakashi safe, to keep at his cub’s side. But Sakumo was too weak even to rise, no matter the reason driving him.

* * *

Sakumo woke when he tried to reach for the kakebuton that must have slipped off in his sleep and fell short, wondering why he couldn’t even _feel_ the heavy winter weight kakebuton. And he couldn’t feel his cub nearby, either; even as he had grown into using his own room some of the time, Kakashi always bedded down with Sakumo in the coldest months, though he was big enough he would probably be fine alone now.

The kakebuton wasn’t anywhere, or . . . nowhere he could reach. It took Sakumo a few tries to realise he could barely move at _all_, and then he noted the ceiling above - dirty rock or rough wood, perhaps. Not the rafters and smooth, angled wood of his den.

Kakashi was still nowhere within his senses, even as he drew as deep a breath as he could, feeling it shallow and painful in his chest, and tilted his head weakly. Shivers wracked his frame and Kakashi _wasn’t there_.

Sakumo whined, struggling to call out for his cub, but there was no answer. His eyes burned and his throat ached as he called again, voice rough. Vague memories of Kakashi being close, voice shaky and thin with distressed whines, lingered in his mind.

Kakashi didn’t answer, and didn’t come, and Sakumo could glimpse only fuzzy parts of the space around him - a cave? - and no sign of his cub’s presence. Surely he was safe. He was a good cub, quick and clever, and he- he had been all right, surely? Sakumo remembered Kakashi being close, speaking to him. . .

Sick and shivering, whimpering and still hoping helplessly that his cub would appear, Sakumo wasn’t quite sure when fears turned to nightmares as sleep reclaimed him.

* * *

“Dad?”

Sakumo woke to the nuzzling, whimpering call of his cub again, feeling even heavier and sicker than he had the last time. He had grown accustomed to _that_, too. He would rather deal with it ten times worse if it would spare the frightened, unsteady neediness of his cub, going repeatedly unanswered because Sakumo wasn’t strong enough, sick as he was, to offer any reassurance, let alone any _help_.

“Kaasan, Dad.” Kakashi’s soft voice wavered, but Sakumo could have cried with relief that Kakashi’s mother could look after him now, at least. “You can make Dad better, Kaasan, right?”

“Let me look at him, little one.” Kari said gently, and Sakumo let himself stop fighting the yawning blackness around him even as Kakashi nudged past him. Kari’s hands were gentle and thorough as they began to move over his body, and it occurred to him faintly to be thankful on his own behalf as well.

* * *

Sakumo whined in pain, his body aching and his head full of thick, clogging clouds. He scented something that was . . . different. Sharp. But close, and familiar, and even mingled with the new scent, there was the reassuring scent of his cub. “Kakashi?” he groaned.

“Daddy!” Kakashi cried, his voice very small.

“Hey,” Sakumo managed, “Kakashi, cub.” He wheezed as he struggled to cough, neck dully aching as he fought to look towards Kakashi. “You’re okay?” he asked, fretting over his cub, only foggily able to make out his messy hair and small form.

Kakashi easily promised that he was, and his voice sounded surer and steadier than it had almost any time he spoke to Sakumo recently. At least . . . from what Sakumo could remember. His memories felt tangled and mingled with the thick, muddled clouds filling his head.

“Kaasan is here!” Kakashi told him eagerly, nudging close against his ribs, and Sakumo vaguely remembered something of his cub’s happy report before. “I found Kaasan.”

A part of Sakumo’s mind prodded at that, a feeling that there was something wrong with it. Kari hadn’t been here, he knew, and they were . . . out. A mission. But Kakashi had said he _found_ her, he must have brought her back. Kakashi knew his mother.

“Kaasan is going to help, Dad.” Kakashi said hurriedly, a bit shaky but still so much more confident. Sakumo was grateful for that even if he doubted Kari could help _him_. Medical aid was not her strong suit, and Sakumo had no idea what was wrong with him but it wasn’t a simple injury. Kakashi, though. . . Kakashi would be safe.

“Good.” Sakumo said, and fixed his gaze on his cub before he closed his eyes instead, giving up the fuzzy mockery of sight he had. “Listen to Kaasan.” he reminded, hoping Kakashi would not fight her if-

If something happened and they had to leave him. Or if he. . .

“Hatake!”

Sakumo jolted inside at the sharp demand. He opened his eyes as Kari ordered him to stay awake and offered water, lost in her rich yellow eyes, blurry as they were at the moment, rather than paying much attention to her voice. “Hatake!”

She must be cross with him, Sakumo thought, wondering what he had done. Fading out, maybe. He couldn’t _help_ that, though, not right now.

Sakumo struggled to drink, but coughed weakly as the water tickled in his throat and he couldn’t quite . . . force it to work. It spilled down his face and neck, which offered a bit of relief from the heat making him want to pant, though he was very thirsty.

Kari gently dried the water and Sakumo tried weakly to nuzzle her hands in affectionate gratitude, but he was exhausted and the wheezing, silent coughs had made him dizzy. He closed his eyes, vaguely aware of being settled comfortably again and not sure whether he truly felt a caress to his face or only dreamed it in the space between consciousness and blackness.

Sakumo sighed, heart eased by his mate’s presence and the steadier confidence it had granted his cub. He had been little use to Kakashi for . . . some time, at least. It was good Kari could look after him now.

Sakumo moaned thinly as he felt clever fingers in his hair, ruffling and petting, fingertips dragging over his scalp, then pressing gently at his neck. He heard his mate and cub speaking once more after a time, but the words blurred together, and he was sure of Kakashi’s safety and care . . . he didn’t fight for clarity, only enjoyed the caressing touch that was almost all he could feel.

He faded out despite his best intentions, with a soft whine catching in his throat.

* * *

Gentle hands running a wet cloth over his skin made Sakumo shiver, the drips of cool water sliding down his sides ticklish but pleasant. The air was fresher around him, and- and he could neither scent nor feel Kakashi nearby.

“Kari?” Sakumo whined. “Kari, our cub? Safe? Kakashi? Where-”

“Kakashi is fine, we’re just worried about you.” Kakashi’s presence against his arm, then nuzzling his cheek, accompanied his mate’s voice, underlining her assurances. He tried to return the gesture as Kakashi spoke to him, assuring Sakumo himself that he was safe.

“Good. Kari?” Sakumo tried again, but drifted a little before he got a response. Kari demanded his attention again, and Sakumo nearly wept as she asked- Kakashi- The missing cubs. . . Kakashi was all he had, he couldn’t- Sakumo kept Kakashi with him to keep him _safe_, had to be sure of it himself, couldn’t risk-

Sakumo _couldn’t_ lose his cub. He clung to consciousness even as pain sank its claws into him with each of his shuddering attempts to force movement until Kari assured him that Kakashi was safe with her. Sakumo let go, panting and struggling to draw in enough air, his head spinning, as Kakashi snuggled up to his shoulder, crooning very softly and assuring him all was well.

Sakumo was vaguely aware of Kari’s hands bathing him and gently moving him - the small movements _hurt_ but they felt _so good_, even better than the simple touch of his mate’s hands again - and Kakashi’s warmth against his shoulder and face. He was still miserably hot, but he wouldn’t have given up his cub so near had he the choice.

* * *

When the world resolved itself again - Sakumo must have fallen into unconsciousness again, though he didn’t know when - he was alone, no soft touches or small warm body tucked against his own, but he could hear the happy sound of cub laughter. There was nothing but the fresher, damp scent of the camp, and the sounds he could hear, for a time, as he couldn’t manage to open his eyes, but it was comforting all the same.

“Just look at the state of these toes!” Kari scolded lightly, and Sakumo smiled a little, heart light, as Kakashi giggled again.

“They’re _my_ toes!” Kakashi protested, with the sound of cub flails.

Kari didn’t sound like she was having any trouble with him, unsurprisingly. On the rare occasions he was around anyone else he was often distrustful and wilful, but Kakashi had always been a well-behaved, happy cub for them. “They’re terribly dirty toes.” she teased as Kakashi’s laughter grew louder. “What kind of little cub goes about with dirty toes?” she asked, as though shocked.

“Hunting cub!” Kakashi declared, and Sakumo swallowed hard, struggling with it as his throat twitched and the muscles didn’t quite work, as Kari praised him for taking care of them both.

Kakashi had, Sakumo had seen his cub working hard even as he faded out more and more often, for longer periods. Kakashi helping him when he had collapsed not far from the nest, the last time he had been able to get up at all. Kakashi coaxing him to drink. Kakashi bringing him ration bars from their supplies, then still-warm meat, fresh blood over his tongue when he couldn’t even chew the thin strips Kakashi shredded for him.

When Sakumo managed to tilt his head, he saw Kakashi snuggled against his mother’s body, submitting to being bathed with little happy sounds. The smile and the lightness in his chest returned. Kari reached for Kakashi’s ankles and he kicked and toppled over across her thigh, giggling again and getting louder as Kari tickled one small foot.

Kakashi’s toes wriggled, and Kari laughed softly as she scrubbed their cub’s feet clean, then let him sit up and cuddle into her body once more. Sakumo’s heart eased to see him happy, and cared for, not having to struggle, or . . . or worry.

Kari dressed Kakashi again and then sent him to bed down by Sakumo, smelling of the peculiar sharp scent she had picked up. Eyes closed, Sakumo drifted, comforted by her presence and by Kakashi resting peacefully so close. He was drawn back into proper awareness by the smell of . . . cooked rabbit?

He drew in a deeper breath, stomach clenching a little unhappily with the reminder of how little he had put in it over the past days. Even that much was a surprise; he’d not really felt hungry save for fleeting moments as he grew weaker.

Kari approached, barely-there footsteps, and light fingers brushed his brow. “Are you awake, Hatake?”

Groaning, Sakumo fought to open his eyes, and before he had Kakashi snuffled at his jaw, nuzzling affectionately. “What is, Kaasan?” he asked without getting up from Sakumo’s side. “Soup?”

“Broth for your father.” Kari said as Sakumo opened his eyes. “If he can take it. We’ll see about something for you that isn’t _just_ rabbit in a little while.”

“Yes, Kaasan.” Kakashi said agreeably. Sakumo breathed in the smell of the broth; rich and slightly tangy with _something_ that should be familiar.

It wasn’t until he was up against Kari’s shoulder, the broth trickled carefully over his tongue, that he identified the undertone of the broth. A supplement many ninja carried, though Sakumo tended to avoid it himself for the odd aftertaste and the way it made his nose itch.

“Doing all right?” Kari asked as Sakumo panted, struggling to swallow and breathe and feeling uncomfortably overwhelmed. A light touch brushed his throat and it felt like he breathed a little easier. “How is the broth?”

“Broth.” Sakumo said roughly. “Good.” he added, and tried to nuzzle his mate’s wrist in gratitude, though he couldn’t quite manage the gesture. “Rabbit?”

“Mm, yes.” Kari said, and Kakashi perked up. Sakumo felt more than heard Kari’s soft hum in response, along with a shallow nod.

“I caught it, Dad! All by myself!” Kakashi said eagerly, bouncing a little and bumping into Sakumo. He would likely have slid down again if a strong arm hadn’t wound around his waist to support him a little more. “Kaasan!” Kakashi turned to Kari.

“You did indeed, little one. Well done.” Kari praised, then rubbed Sakumo’s shoulder. “He’s still taking care of you now.”

Sakumo felt rather dreadful that his cub had _needed_ to, but he was as proud of Kakashi as his mother. He managed to express it with a soft rumble, hand sliding clumsily over Kakashi’s where he had pressed close to lean against Sakumo’s lap.

Kari drew Sakumo’s attention back to the broth, and helped him get down as much as he could before the process had exhausted him. He couldn’t really express it, but Kari evidently didn’t need him to - she had learned how to read him well over the years, he thought vaguely, even more appreciative than usual - and had soon helped him to lie down again, this time on his side, braced a bit to stay comfortable. His body was grateful for both the movement and to be in a new position, even if he still couldn’t shift on his own.

He fell asleep - and it _felt_ like falling asleep, this time, not losing himself to unconsciousness or the bleariness of the heavy, fogging clouds winning out over him - to the sounds of Kari moving about the camp and Kakashi trailing after with happy sounds and curious questions.

* * *

“Ohayou Kaasan!”

Sakumo jolted awake to the cheerful almost-howl, and groaned a little before the words filtered in. Kaasan. Ah, right. And- He tried to move and was reminded that he was not really . . . capable of that, at the moment.

“Ah, what- Ah!” Kari said, sounding startled but not alarmed. “. . .ohayou, Kakashi, little one. How . . . did you leave so quietly? I didn’t hear you. . .”

“Sneaky hunter!” Kakashi said proudly. “Brought breakfast for Kaasan! And Dad?”

“If he can eat anything, little one, I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.” Kari said, and Sakumo caught a glimpse of Kari running her fingers through Kakashi’s hair, a limp rabbit in her other hand. “Well done. Please wake me before you leave again, though, all right?”

“. . .why?” Kakashi asked, and Sakumo closed his eyes with a sigh.

“Because I would like to know where you are, little one.” Kari said patiently. “You are a very good little hunter, but you are a very _small_ hunter. Be careful.”

“. . .yes, Kaasan.” Kakashi agreed, though he sounded confused.

Sakumo listened to the sounds of Kari turning Kakashi’s rabbit into something of a better breakfast, content as he could be in his current condition.

* * *

Orochimaru woke with his nerves not quite jangling, eyes wide and adjusting swiftly to the dark.

“Please- _Please_, I need-”

Orochimaru began to rise, then paused to gently shift Kakashi aside - he’d thought the child had bedded down beside his father, how had he not noticed the small body cuddling up to him instead? - before swiftly moving to Sakumo’s side.

“Hatake, what’s wrong? What do you need?” Orochimaru asked, examining him. Hatake looked well - better than he had, in any case, and his eyes were clearer.

“I need to know. . .” Hatake took a gasping breath. “Please, you . . . look after Kakashi, if I don’t. . . If something happens to me, please. Please, Kakashi-”

Orochimaru sighed, relaxing a little. They had covered this already. More of Sakumo’s admirable if intense concern for his child and his certainty that Orochimaru was Kakashi’s mother, was Kari, that was all . . . along with an incorrect assessment of his own condition, particularly as he _seemed_ to be recovering now. Orochimaru gathered a bit of iryou chakra and rested a hand on Hatake’s brow, opening his mouth to reply.

“Orochimaru-sama, I know I’ve no right,” Hatake said, and Orochimaru froze, “but you- he trusts you, and you’ve done so much for us. . . Please, I have to know he’ll be safe. He’s my- Please take care of my cub, keep him safe if I can’t.”

“You will be perfectly fine,” Orochimaru said evenly, as he completed a cursory check of Hatake’s system, “to look after him yourself. As precious as he is,” he smiled slightly, “I think you would rather not trust me to look after him.”

“He would be safe with you.” Hatake said, with absolute steadiness, his storm-grey eyes clear, if somewhat unfocused in the very dim light.

Orochimaru’s throat tightened. “He- He would.” he promised, then took a breath. “In any case, he won’t _need_ me, you’ll be _fine_. Despite nearly dying of _forgetting to check yourself for ticks_, you idiot.” he said sharply, pulling himself together.

“. . .what?” Hatake questioned, looking confused.

Orochimaru sat back, tilting his head. “You had two ticks on you and you were suffering tick paralysis when Kakashi brought me to you.” he said softly, glancing at Kakashi to be sure the child was still asleep. He paused. “You may have brought your son with you to protect him,” he said, meeting Hatake’s eyes, “but without him _you_ likely wouldn’t be making it back to Konoha.”

Hatake’s breath caught as he tilted his head, looking towards his son. “Kakashi. . .”

“He’s a clever, strong little one. Don’t leave him.” Orochimaru said, a bit more sharply than he intended. “Hold still, let me check you over.” he added quickly, before Hatake could try to respond.

Hatake’s muscular responses were still not quite where they should be, but they were better, and his fever had broken without dipping back into hypothermia this time. He was certainly recovering, and rather well. Orochimaru told him so.

“Thank you, Orochimaru-sama.” Hatake said, and Orochimaru tilted his head. “For me, and- And for Kakashi. For caring for him, when I couldn’t.” He swallowed, resting his hand over Orochimaru’s wrist. “I cannot imagine- I couldn’t face it if something had happened to him, and because of _me_, if he had been lost out here. . . _Thank you_ for saving my cub.”

Orochimaru pressed his lips together. He nodded acceptance and hoped that would be good enough, tongue barren of words to offer in return.

Hatake’s hand dropped away again and he sighed, then coughed quietly, brows drawing together. He had probably worn himself out with his alarm and then moving as much as he had. “You should rest. Do you need anything? _Else?_” Orochimaru clarified.

Hatake required little attention or effort to get settled again, and Kakashi was just stirring when Orochimaru returned to his own bedroll. Orochimaru ran a hand over his hair and down his back soothingly, then hummed, wondering if he should move Kakashi back to keep his father company. In the end he didn’t, merely turned onto his side and closed his eyes, a small smile curving his lips as Kakashi nestled against him cosily.

Hatake was strong, the week - Orochimaru was even more impressed with Kakashi’s resourcefulness as Hatake’s recollections offered a clearer timeline - he had spent with the illness wearing him into a shadow of himself aside, and he recovered quickly. He ate ravenously as soon as he was capable of it, soon on his feet once more, speaking clearly; in a few days he was showing almost no signs of the tick paralysis.

Orochimaru shook his head and held him back when he declared he was ready to begin the run back to Konoha, insisting he take another day to rest before the trip. Hatake didn’t really need watching over any longer, but Orochimaru would be with him - with them - to help if something happened, and to make sure Hatake didn’t do anything else foolish.

* * *

Sakumo grinned as he worked with Orochimaru to clear up the cave that had been a temporary den for all of them, packing to return home to Konoha. Kakashi darted about helping by fetching things to them both, bright and cheerful about the task, which was soon finished.

“Kakashi, come here.” Orochimaru beckoned, and Sakumo frowned, glancing over. He had been about to call his cub in close himself.

“I ride on Dad’s back when we run!” Kakashi explained, though he had obeyed Orochimaru’s summons without protest.

“Mm, not this time.” Orochimaru said, and Sakumo’s mouth twisted. “Your father is still recovering, we wouldn’t want him to tire out too quickly, would we? I’ll carry you this time. We have a few days’ travel ahead of us as it is.”

“Yes, Kaasan!” Kakashi said happily, brightening from the brief fretful look he had sent Sakumo immediately. He clambered up Orochimaru’s body without waiting for assistance and settled onto his back in the same way he rode with Sakumo, nestling close and nuzzling Orochimaru’s sleek, ink-dark hair companionably, making a soft, happy crooning noise.

Sakumo suddenly remembered seeing Kakashi perched beside Orochimaru several days ago - when his world had still been feverish and muddled - combing through his hair with both hands, a very serious expression on his little face.

“Are you ready, Hatake?” Orochimaru questioned, and Sakumo cleared his throat and nodded that he was, clearing his mind.

His eyes lingered on Kakashi where he had settled in against Orochimaru’s shoulders as though it was as easy and familiar as riding on Sakumo’s. It was . . . strange.

* * *

It was still strange four days later when they slowed at Konoha’s gates, but it was the last time Sakumo had to try and square it in his mind. Orochimaru tugged Kakashi down and around, off his shoulders and into his arms, holding him for a moment and then crossing the few steps to bring him to Sakumo.

“Hatake.” Orochimaru inclined his head as Sakumo reflexively raised his arms to take his cub, hugging him close.

“Orochimaru-sama, I- Thank you again for . . . everything.” Sakumo said sincerely, rubbing Kakashi’s back.

“You are welcome,” Orochimaru paused, lips curving into the faintest suggestion of a smile, “don’t require me to do it again, if you please. Your adorable cub may not be there to drag me back to you next time.” He bowed his head shallowly. “Farewell.”

“Farewell.” Sakumo replied, and had time for nothing more as Orochimaru turned and was gone in quick, graceful strides. He was vaguely aware of the gate guards watching them, but ignored the curious looks, turning his steps towards home.

He would need to report in, and file a written report, but both of those could wait for the moment.

“Dad?” Kakashi said, still resting in the crook of Sakumo’s arm and making no move to attempt to move to his shoulders, at least for now.

“Yes, cub?” Sakumo asked, smiling at him.

“Where is Kaasan going?” Kakashi asked seriously, frowning a little as he looked from Sakumo’s face off in the direction Orochimaru had disappeared.

Sakumo hesitated.

“Does Kaasan have things to do? From the mission?” Kakashi asked, looking back up at Sakumo. “Kaasan’s mission was different from Dad’s mission, right?”

“Things to do, yes; always, I imagine.” Sakumo added under his breath, thinking of the assignments he had seen the Sannin sent on, and particularly of Orochimaru, who seemed always to be doing _something_, in or out of the village, with or without the other members of his small team.

“Okay.” Kakashi said, relaxing against Sakumo’s shoulder again, and Sakumo breathed a little easier. “Kaasan home later.”

Sakumo winced, but neither argued nor agreed as he continued towards home.

* * *

“Kakashi, time for dinner, and then _you_ need a bath, cub.” Sakumo said lightly, moving between a low shrub and the broader tree nearby towards his cub.

“No!” Kakashi barked, and darted away from Sakumo’s reaching hands.

Sakumo startled. “Kakashi!” He hurried after his cub. “No?” he questioned, slowing as Kakashi stopped running.

“No!” Kakashi repeated, pulling away.

“Come on, cub, you’ve been playing out here for hours.” Sakumo said gently, going to one knee and reaching for Kakashi’s arm, clasping it gently and drawing him closer.

“No. . .” Kakashi yowled, pulling against Sakumo’s hold on him. “Not playing! Hunting!”

Sakumo smiled slightly despite the shocking tantrum. “I know, cub. My brilliant hunting cub. But come inside, it’s dark. It’s time for dinner, and you are very dirty.”

“Was hunting for Kaasan!”

Sakumo froze, stomach lurching. “Oh. . . Oh Kakashi, cub. Kaasan isn’t here.” he reminded gently.

“Couldn’t find Kaasan. . .” Kakashi whimpered, sniffling as Sakumo pulled him in closer and picked him up. “No scent anywhere. . .”

Sakumo cuddled his cub close. “I. . . I’m sorry, Kakashi.” he murmured, nuzzling Kakashi’s hair comfortingly. Kakashi sniffled and whined, pressing his face into Sakumo’s shoulder. He spent the entire walk back home whimpering for his Kaasan, and Sakumo’s throat was tight as he fought the stinging of tears.

Kakashi was listless through dinner, which Sakumo had to prompt him to even eat, but he didn’t fuss any more, beyond a few whines and sorrowful, damp-eyed looks. Sakumo barely managed the attention for his own dinner, desperately wishing he could fix this distress for his cub.

Half of dinner was packed away for lunch the next day, and Sakumo went to run a bath. He sighed, watching the steaming water ripple for a few minutes before going to collect Kakashi.

“Time to get clean before sleep, cub.” he said gently, smiling and urging Kakashi up and into the bathing room.

Kakashi complied, slowly, his whole posture drooping. Sakumo stroked his hair and he nudged into the touch weakly. Kakashi wriggled as Sakumo stripped his clothes off, and Sakumo crooned soothingly. “Bathtime, cub.” he reminded, and picked Kakashi up to put him in the bath only to yelp as Kakashi kicked out.

“No!” Kakashi cried, flailing in Sakumo’s arms and clawing onto his wrist. “No, want _Kaasan_!”

“Kakashi!” Sakumo barked, pulling him closer and ignoring the battering of his cub’s limbs against his chest in an effort not to _drop_ him. “You need a bath!”

“No bath! Kaasan! Where is Kaasan?” Kakashi cried, curling one hand into Sakumo’s shirt and thumping at him with the other. “No. . . No bath unless Kaasan!” he whined, pulling hard at Sakumo’s shirt. “Kaasan. . . Kaasan.” he whimpered.

Sakumo swallowed hard, rocking his cub. “I’m sorry, cub, but Kaasan isn’t here. There- There is no Kaasan here.”

_Kaasan isn’t here, cub._ Sakumo’s heart wrenched as he remembered crying those words to Kakashi when he was very small, cradled in Sakumo’s arms and crying with his own confused grief.

He eventually climbed into the bath with Kakashi, holding him as he fought, and then gently bathed his cub while Kakashi sank into despondent cries. When Sakumo pulled him out again, he was quiet save for some soft, distressed mumbles about his toes.

_What kind of little cub goes about with dirty toes?_ Sakumo remembered, though he had thought it was Kari then, cooing to their cub and coddling him, getting him clean again after Sakumo had been too ill to care for him.

“I’m sorry, cub.” Sakumo said softly, kissing Kakashi’s temple. Kakashi sniffed and leaned into him, and Sakumo nuzzled his cub affectionately. _I would bring your Kaasan here for you if only I could, my cub._ he thought miserably.

Sakumo cuddled with him for a little while, hoping it offered some comfort and eased a little himself by Kakashi’s now calmer breathing. It was, however, growing very late, and they should both be tucked in to sleep. He checked that Kakashi hadn’t fallen asleep in his arms and found his cub’s eyes open, though heavy-lidded.

“Time for bed, cub.” Sakumo said gently, hugging Kakashi tighter, then releasing him with a light nudge.

Kakashi slid out of Sakumo’s lap and wandered out the door. Sakumo remained to check that the bathing room was cleaned up before-

Sakumo’s heart clenched as he heard a soft, warbling cub howl from the bedroom. He left the bath as it was and went to the bedroom, listening to Kakashi’s howls grow.

Kakashi was sitting by the open window, howling mournfully, longing.

“Cub. . .” Sakumo’s heart went out to his cub. A part of his pack was missing, as far as he was concerned, and he. . .

Kakashi howled again, small and sad, and Sakumo hadn’t the heart to try and stop him.

Eventually his voice faded out, and Kakashi caught his breath in rough little hitches as he slunk away from the window. He didn’t climb into the futon already laid out, waiting for them both, but hauled out his own small futon, the one he barely ever used, and unrolled it up against the wall. He sniffled and tucked himself into it, curling into a tight ball and crying quietly.

“Kakashi. . . Darling. . .” Sakumo said softly, approaching his cub. “Come and sleep with me?” he coaxed.

“No!” Kakashi barked. “Want _Kaasan_.”

Sakumo’s breath caught, remembering nights on their trip back home to Konoha; Kakashi sleepily, contentedly curling up beside Orochimaru when Sakumo rose to take watch and allow him to rest instead. “Kakashi-”

Kakashi protested again, jerking into a tighter ball, and Sakumo retreated, putting out the light and settling into his futon. Sleep was a long time coming, however, his eyes lingering on the small shape of his sad cub, insisting on being alone.

Insistently crying for his _Kaasan_.

But Kari had been gone for a long time, and Sakumo couldn’t produce _Orochimaru_ for his small, confused cub.

* * *

Kakashi dropped down miserably on the grass. He was _exhausted_. And - he held up one hand - rather dirty. There was _no trace_ of Kaasan to be found anywhere he was allowed to wander, though . . . and he still hadn’t found any even when he had roamed further, after the first two days of searching.

He _had_ been nearly trampled by a very big dog, and caught up in a group of people who smelled like dust and sweat from the road and some very strange things besides, and a few children had tried to get him to come and play. Kakashi had a mission, though, and had continued on.

. . .Kakashi had failed, though. He couldn’t find Kaasan. Not even a trace of Kaasan anywhere. And Dad wouldn’t- wouldn’t help, wouldn’t bring Kaasan.

Dad only said that there was no Kaasan to be had, that he was sorry, but Kakashi had to stop. It _hurt_.

Kakashi remembered there being no Kaasan, it had been so long . . . but Kaasan had _been there_, he had found Kakashi and made Dad better and cuddled Kakashi and offered baths and food and carried Kakashi all the way back to the village. . .

And then Kaasan had gone away, and Kakashi had thought Kaasan had things to do, but Kaasan had not come back and now Dad said Kaasan wouldn’t, that Kaasan was not there, and Kakashi had never known it to happen before but-

Dad was _lying_.

Kakashi didn’t know what to do, and he curled up tight against the trunk of the tree he had taken shelter under, looking at his slightly dirty toes and whimpering.

* * *

Sakumo moved a little faster, tracking the meandering path his cub had taken, brushing past some travelling merchants with a twitch of his nose. Kakashi had been by them, but continued on his own, and possibly not even passed by here, where they were setting up in a small square.

Sakumo didn’t think Kakashi had actually made it this far into the busy stretches of the village. He leapt lightly to the top of a fence as the street grew fuller, letting him bypass the crowd more quickly, and jumped out across an Inuzuka arguing with his dog when he reached the end of it.

It took Sakumo less than ten minutes longer to find his cub, though with his chest tight and stinging with anxiety it felt like far longer. Kakashi was curled up at the base of a tree, just hidden from the road.

Sakumo slowed on his way up to his cub. He should take Kakashi to task for disobeying the rules he _knew_, straying where he was not allowed to wander alone, and he would, but. . . His cub was _miserable_, and Sakumo. . .

“Kakashi, cub, I’m here.” Sakumo said softly, resting a hand on Kakashi’s side.

“Daddy. . .” Kakashi keened, and Sakumo bit at the inside of his cheek until he tasted traces of blood. “Want Kaasan, Dad. . .” Sakumo started to say that he knew, but- “I _know_ Kaasan is . . . why won’t you let. . . Why lying, Dad?”

Sakumo felt sick. He hadn’t realised-

He’d been trying to dissuade Kakashi from his search for his Kaasan, for _Orochimaru_, but he hadn’t realised Kakashi thought he was _lying_ when he told Kakashi that he couldn’t have his Kaasan. Sakumo squeezed his eyes closed. Kakashi had been searching for days - had been calm when they first settled back into their den, but Sakumo hadn’t realised then it was because he assumed his Kaasan would be coming home soon as well.

Sakumo. . .

Sakumo didn’t know what to do. Kakashi refused to be calmed, and he was miserable, searching determinedly for his mother, no matter what Sakumo tried with him . . . and throwing fits at home between times. He fought baths, and bedtime, he ate little, he cried and called out for his Kaasan inconsolably.

“Come here, cub.” Sakumo said softly. “We’ll. . . We’ll go see . . . him.”

Kakashi uncurled a little, and Sakumo’s uncertainty about the choice he had made almost impulsively was done away with near completely as he saw the tears beaded in his cub’s eyelashes. “Kaasan? You’ll find Kaasan?”

“Come with me.” Sakumo said again, opening his arms hopefully.

Kakashi jumped on him, cuddling into the crook of one arm as Sakumo wrapped it around him. Sakumo rose, rubbing Kakashi’s back, and then leapt into the tree above, taking a few moments to remember where the Yashagoro compound - a single house, though it was properly within its own walls, as it was for any of the clans - actually _was_.

It took a bit of wandering once in the general area, but soon Sakumo, Kakashi in his arms, was looking through an open gate with carved serpents winding up the posts and across a staggered stone pathway at a large house.

Sakumo eyed it warily, then bounced Kakashi a little to settle him before beginning across the pathway, vaguely remembering stories about the Yashagoro from when he had been a cub. Hopefully the pathway at least wasn’t trapped. Surely people had to visit sometimes, or bring messages, at least.

They made it to the front door without trouble, and Sakumo let his wriggling cub down to the ground, then knocked.

The door swung open and-

“Kakashi!” Sakumo cried, wincing slightly.

Kakashi had flung himself through the door instantly, landing around the height of Orochimaru’s thighs and rocking him back on his heels.

“Hello, little one.” Orochimaru said with a warm smile, running his fingers through Kakashi’s hair as he shifted, helping Kakashi climb higher to hug him.

“Kaasan!” Kakashi said happily, snuggling into Orochimaru’s chest and nuzzling along his collarbone to his neck. Orochimaru shifted one shoulder and lifted his chin, allowing Kakashi to scent him easily, and Sakumo’s throat tightened at the simple, welcoming action. Orochimaru caught his gaze.

Sakumo swallowed, with some difficulty. “Sorry,” he offered immediately, “he, er, he was terribly upset because Kaasan wasn’t home with us, and, well. . .”

“Mm. . .”

“Kaasan, why are you here instead of den?” Kakashi asked, craning his head back.

Sakumo sent Orochimaru an apologetic look.

“Perhaps you had best come in, then.” Orochimaru said, taking a step back, still cradling Kakashi against himself. “Would you like to join me for tea?”

“Ah- Thank you.” Sakumo accepted with a dip of his head, stepping inside and bending to remove his sandals. “Kakashi, shoes, cub.” he reminded.

Orochimaru rested his face against Kakashi’s hair for a moment in an affectionate gesture that made Sakumo’s breath catch. He looked down, patting Kakashi’s ankle, and tsked as he ran a thumb over the top of Kakashi’s sandal just shy of his toes. Kakashi giggled softly, then huffed as he looked at Sakumo, pouting. Orochimaru let Kakashi slide down to the floor, and he pulled his shoes off, lining them up neatly beside Sakumo’s. Slightly dirty feet now bare, he hopped up from the genkan, nose twitching as he tilted his head up and sniffed, eyes wide.

Sakumo was resisting the urge to look around what he could see of the house in an impolitely obvious manner himself.

“Through here.” Orochimaru invited, and Sakumo reached for his cub only to sigh when Kakashi whined and slipped away, sniffing and following the wall down to a corner that was _not_ the one Orochimaru was leading them to. “It’s fine.” Orochimaru added, fingertips brushing Sakumo’s wrist fleetingly.

Sakumo relaxed a little, though he kept his ears attuned to Kakashi’s little footsteps until he came into sight again. It wasn’t long, Kakashi trotting right back to Orochimaru, grinning happily at Sakumo as he caught a handful of Orochimaru’s pants.

Orochimaru put a hand down to his head, nudging Kakashi gently as he took a step, kettle in hand, but not pushing Kakashi away. Kakashi made a thoughtful sound. “Smells like Kaasan.” he said after a moment, and Orochimaru hummed, stroking his hair again.

They looked. . .

Sakumo pressed his lips together. It was strange, but the picture they made together looked oddly neat. As though it was familiar for them.

Orochimaru stepped away from the stove and Kakashi moved away from him again, apparently intending to return to his exploration of the house. Sakumo was ready to call him back, but Orochimaru only issued a warning where not to venture and Kakashi acknowledged it with a serious little nod of his head. He wandered out of the room, and Sakumo looked awkwardly at Orochimaru as he went about preparing a teapot, setting cups and teaware on the table, and then returning to the kettle to pour it and make the tea.

Sakumo was a little grateful that little cub ears were too sharp to allow a private conversation from this distance. He knew they _needed_ to talk, most likely, but he had no idea how to go about it.

“_Mousies!_” Kakashi yipped, and Sakumo startled, then turned, already heading for the open doorway his cub’s voice was coming through most clearly. “Dad! Dad, Dad, look! Kaasan has mousies! A mousietank!”

Sakumo made it to his side a moment later and found Kakashi with his hands and nose pressed to the glass of a large tank filled with skittering mice. “Ah- So I see.” Sakumo said, eyeing it. “Kakashi. . .” he began warningly, thinking Kakashi very well might try and climb _inside_ the tank of mice.

“I do indeed.” Orochimaru said with a slight smile. “Would you like a mousie with your tea, precious?” he asked, running his fingers through Kakashi’s fringe.

Kakashi bounced, making a high-pitched sound of excitable glee. “Can I Kaasan?” he asked eagerly, looking rapidly between the mice and Orochimaru.

Sakumo just looked at him, startled. Orochimaru arched an eyebrow. “You don’t mind if he-”

“No that’s fine. Of course.” Sakumo said immediately, shaking his head, as Kakashi moved back to the tank, hands pressing to the glass once more. Sakumo smiled at the sight. He realised he had impulsively reached for Orochimaru’s hand only after it was clasped in his own. Orochimaru eyed him, and Sakumo’s smile widened a little as he dipped his head, lightly kissing Orochimaru’s palm. “Just . . . thank you.”

No one else in Konoha would have guessed, _known_ the reason for Kakashi’s excitement, would have offered him a mouse for a snack rather than assumed he was enthralled by the idea of pet mice.

Orochimaru stiffened, but didn’t draw his hand away. Sakumo clasped it a little tighter, but only for a moment before releasing it with a stroke of his thumb. “Hm. . .” Orochimaru tilted his head, looking at Sakumo, then looked away, brushing a hand over Kakashi’s shoulder. “Would you like to pick out a mousie for yourself, little one?” he asked with a fond look, and Kakashi bounced happily.

“Mousie mousie mousie!” Kakashi said, quivering a little as he stared in at the mice.

“Mice?” Sakumo questioned quietly as Orochimaru waited patiently for Kakashi to choose.

“For the snakes.” Orochimaru said, and Sakumo nodded understanding. “. . .mostly.” he added, with an almost playful look, lips curling. Sakumo blinked, then grinned.

“Of course.”

Orochimaru laughed softly, voice rich, then bent a little. “Have you chosen, Kakashi?” he asked, and Kakashi nodded happily.

Five minutes later they were sitting at the table with cups of tea, and Kakashi was crunching into his mousie with a napkin in front of him on the table. Orochimaru didn’t turn a hair at the wet sound of small bones breaking between sharp cub teeth, or the smear of blood that spread across Kakashi’s cheek when he rubbed his face.

Sakumo hadn’t necessarily _expected_ him to - and he remembered Orochimaru’s startled but not displeased reaction when Kakashi had brought him a freshly-killed rabbit and woken him with it; few people were _pleased_ by fresh, bloody animals first thing in the morning, even among ninja - but it was still. . .

He shook his head slightly and sipped his tea.

“Would _you_ like anything with your tea, Hatake?” Orochimaru asked, his voice slightly dry, startling a laugh from Sakumo.

“No, thank you, I’m fine.” Sakumo demurred, looking at Kakashi with a smile. Kakashi grinned back, small fangs bloody. He turned to look at Orochimaru, and Orochimaru laughed, voice soft and warm, then tsked quietly.

Kakashi tilted his head inquisitively, licking his lips of the last of his mouse. Orochimaru reached out, and Sakumo stilled with his cup to his lips - he nearly choked and had to take a rather larger swallow of tea than he’d intended - as he watched Orochimaru wipe blood off Kakashi’s face.

“Messy cub.” he said, not quite a scold, cradling Kakashi’s chin in one hand and cleaning the blood away with the other. “However did you get mousie blood all the way up here, mm?” he asked, tapping Kakashi’s cheek up by his eye and making him giggle.

“Kaasan!” Kakashi whined, still grinning, his eyes bright as he nestled his face into Orochimaru’s hands. He made a contented little sound and submitted to having his face cleaned up as though he had never thrown a tantrum in his short life.

Not that Sakumo was used to him protesting such things more than playfully in any case, but with how Kakashi had been since they had returned. . .

“More tea?” Orochimaru asked, and Sakumo looked up, meeting his eyes.

“Ah. . . Thank you.” Sakumo inclined his head, realising with some embarrassment he’d barely tasted the tea he had already drunk.

Orochimaru poured more, and Kakashi fidgeted. “Kaasan?”

“Yes?” Orochimaru answered almost absently, refilling his own cup but glancing towards Kakashi.

“C’n I go explore again?” Kakashi asked, wriggling on his chair.

Sakumo stayed quiet, watching Orochimaru.

“If you like.” he said peaceably. “There are hatchlings under the heat lamp in the other room; don’t disturb them.”

“Yes, Kaasan.” Kakashi said obediently, sliding off his chair, then lingered. “Hatchlings?”

“Vine snakes.” Orochimaru said with a small, fond smile. “You may go say hello if you like, but they need to stay warm.”

Kakashi made a tiny rumbling noise and nodded, trotting off with a last pat of his head from Orochimaru.

“How have you been, since your . . . _illness_?” Orochimaru asked after a time, eyeing Sakumo over his tea.

“Ah.” Sakumo sighed. “Quite well, due entirely to you, thank you.” he said honestly. He had been tired but almost completely back to normal by the time Orochimaru had agreed they should start the trek back to Konoha, in fact. Managing Kakashi’s newly-developed flair for fits had been exhausting, but that had little to do with his health.

“Kakashi has been . . . unusually tiring.” Sakumo said softly, listening carefully for his cub. “It isn’t your responsibility, he’s nothing to do with you,” Orochimaru frowned, “but it . . . is part of why I brought him here today. He’s been hoping to find you.” he explained. “All on his own. And not having any luck.”

“. . .Konoha is very large.” Orochimaru said, rubbing his thumb over the side of his tea cup. “Particularly for one quite small cub.”

“Who is not supposed to wander it alone.” Sakumo added dryly.

Orochimaru’s lips quirked. “Determined.”

“Always. And he so very much wanted . . . well, _you_.” Sakumo said, rubbing his face.

“Me.” Orochimaru said, and Sakumo opened his eyes to gauge the expression that accompanied the odd tone.

“Hatchlings!” Kakashi said from the doorway, and Orochimaru smiled.

“Hatchlings.” Orochimaru repeated, voice warm.

“Like grass! Small friendly grass!” Kakashi said, almost interrupting himself with a yawn as Orochimaru blinked, looking startled, then amused.

Coming fully into the kitchen again, Kakashi bypassed Sakumo and went to Orochimaru, only surprising him a little. Orochimaru pushed back from the table a little more as Kakashi climbed into his lap, welcoming the cub close easily.

Sakumo was caught again by the sight of Orochimaru with his cub. He had _seen_ Orochimaru with Kakashi, while he was ill and as he recovered and even travelling . . . yet it was different here and now, in Konoha, in Orochimaru’s den. Here, with no outside reason pushing the three of them together.

They looked comfortable together. Like they belonged like this. He knew he had been very ill, and not at his best even when he was recovering . . . and he remembered the trip back to Konoha with Orochimaru, but this. . .

When had Orochimaru bonded so closely with his cub? When had _Kakashi_, never outgoing by nature, chosen to reach out to someone this way, and found. . .

Orochimaru hummed softly, running his fingers up and down Kakashi’s spine as he tucked himself up close with a contented, friendly rumble. Orochimaru looked at Sakumo, piercing gaze catching his own.

“You look. . .” Sakumo began, then paused.

“Like your wife?” Orochimaru questioned dryly.

Sakumo blinked, already shaking his head. “No! No, you don’t,” he paused, “you aren’t Kari. The two of _you_, though,” he nodded towards Kakashi in Orochimaru’s lap, “you look . . . right.” He smiled crookedly. “You look like Kakashi’s Kaasan.”

“_Is_ Kaasan, Dad.” Kakashi said, frowning at him, and Orochimaru rubbed the nape of his neck. He melted, whimpering delightedly beneath the caress.

“So the little one speaks.” Orochimaru said with a slanted smirk, eyes warm with amusement.

Sakumo winced, but Orochimaru only petted Kakashi fondly, holding him close as he dozed off under the caresses of the man he was so certain was his mother. And with him no longer listening, at least for the moment, Sakumo . . . owed Orochimaru an explanation. A better one.

“He’s been searching for you - for his Kaasan. For days. I can’t get him to stop, and he’s been miserable, I-” Sakumo broke off. “I _am_ sorry to have disturbed you. He’s been. . .”

“Upset.” Orochimaru filled in, and Sakumo bent forwards against the table.

“He’s been howling for Kaasan, throwing fits when I can’t make . . . well, _you_, appear for him.” Sakumo said softly, cringing. “He’s been fighting _everything_ because he wants his Kaasan. He’s so young. . . It’s not your problem, and _he’s_ not yours, and I wouldn’t expect you to-”

“What _do_ you expect, Hatake?” Orochimaru asked, startling him. “Or, more, what do you _want_?” He raised a hand, tucking a loose lock of his hair back, then returned it to Kakashi, fingers quickly finding the sensitive place at his nape once more and rubbing gently.

Kakashi grumbled in his sleep, snuffling against Orochimaru’s yukata.

“I want. . .” Sakumo paused, taking a breath. “I don’t want to corner you, nor to seem like I’m _expecting_ anything of you.” He said, then shook his head, holding up a hand, as Orochimaru opened his mouth. “I want my cub to be happy again, as he has been most of his life. I want him to stop crying and calling helplessly for his Kaasan and fighting me every step of our lives. I want to get to know you,” Sakumo’s lips quirked, “not only because my cub evidently came to adore you while I was mostly unconscious, but because _I_ am intrigued by you. I want to know what _you_ want,” he paused, nodding towards Kakashi in Orochimaru’s lap, “though you seem unexpectedly fond of my cub.”

“He’s a precious, clever little apex predator. He’s adorable.” Orochimaru said, startling Sakumo. “If it had come to that, I would have been happy to keep him, look after him. You. . .” He paused, arching an eyebrow. “I am not so sure of.”

Sakumo huffed, and Orochimaru laughed softly.

“Get to know me, mm?” Orochimaru ran his fingers through Kakashi’s hair. “While I am tempted to _steal_ your son,” he smiled slightly, and Sakumo couldn’t be displeased at the jest, “have _you_ come to the conclusion you want me - or indeed, anything to do with me - because he’s certain I’m his mother, and you’ve decided I’ll do rather well in that place?”

“I never knew you before my cub imprinted on you, and you saved us both.” Sakumo said honestly. “Is it so bad I would like to know you better now?”

Orochimaru made a considering noise, but his arm wound a little more tightly around Kakashi. If he allowed Sakumo anything at all, Sakumo thought, it would be because he was already fond of Kakashi. It was a strange thought and one that only warmed Sakumo’s own heart more.

“You are warm and understanding and . . . amazing, with my cub.” Sakumo reached out, cautious, and let his fingers brush over the back of Orochimaru’s wrist, just shy of where Kakashi’s hair fell in soft spikes over his hand. “You are also,” he said softly, “a very lovely man, Orochimaru-sama.”

Orochimaru blinked a few times. Though he showed no other reaction as his gaze lowered to Kakashi once more, Sakumo smiled.

“Would you have dinner with me? Allow me to get to know you . . . and perhaps show you a better side of myself than you’ve had cause to know thus far?” Sakumo asked hopefully.

Orochimaru looked up, meeting his eyes. He was silent, but Sakumo didn’t twitch, holding his fierce golden gaze.

Orochimaru’s sharp mouth curved into a smile. “What I know of you isn’t so very bad, Hatake. And perhaps,” he added, smile tilting a little deeper, “if you are to try and _sway_ me . . . you should call me less formally.”

“Would you call me by my name?” Sakumo asked in return, grinning.

“Hm. As you like . . . Sakumo.”

Sakumo’s grin widened, and he controlled his reaction as a pleased shiver ran through him. Orochimaru’s gaze swept over him, fingers combing gently through Kakashi’s hair as he sighed sleepily and nuzzled into Orochimaru’s chest, and he smiled at Sakumo.

The feeling of pack wasn’t there yet - though it clearly had been immediately for Kakashi, even if driven by the distressed need to cling to his ‘mother’ - but . . . Sakumo found to his surprise that there might be a snake-shaped space waiting in his pack’s heart. If Orochimaru was willing to explore the possibilities between them as well, however strange the situation that had brought them here, Sakumo suspected it wouldn’t take long before he settled in there.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.social/Kalira) or [Dreamwidth](https://kalira.dreamwidth.org)!


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